


SnuggleWolf

by mee



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Sexual Content, Short Chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-04
Updated: 2014-11-09
Packaged: 2018-02-24 03:09:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 886
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2566139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mee/pseuds/mee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>SnuggleWolf -  5 times Stiles struggled to wake and the time he did</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first time..

**Author's Note:**

> Short fic with some very short chapters.
> 
> First time I've written the 5times format, only the second fanfifc I've every written. It's complete, I aim to get it all typed up and posted tomorrow.
> 
> There'll be some sexual content in the last chapter.
> 
> Hope you like.

The first time Stiles woke he regretted it. His body was all OUCH, his brain soup; the nasty sludgy kind with chunks of all the vegetables sane people hate. His bed was hard, cold and unforgiving. So cold. Cold as death.

A grumbling near his face was all judgy disdain, which seemed harsh when he hadn't done anything, barely even blinked open his eyes. Hot breath blew over his face then a warm furry body sprawled the length of him. Cosy warm. Awesome. When did he get a dog?

'Hello Doggy'

A memory teased at him, something important, some truth just on the edge of being recognised. So cold though, so sore, sleepy. He'd remember it later, there was time later. After a nap. Him and the doggy, the warm snuggly doggy. Nap time first.

Darkness welcomed him.


	2. The second time..

The second time Stiles woke it was a hard slog to wakefulness. His foggy brain refused to cooperate. Everything still hurt in ways that told him he was alive. Even the thought of moving hurt. His bed was still hard, no soft pillow and chills that suggested outdoors. His heat source, the only comfort to be found was the furry furnace next to him. A dog laying as close at it could snuggle. Not a dog though, a wolf. Definitely a wolf, that sounded right. Right and oddly comforting.

Ears twitched as Stiles tried to move then the wolf leapt up, cold nose prodding at him, it was huge creature; looming all dark and scary, cataloguing his every eyelash. It made Stiles feel absurdly happy. He had the strong need to pet the glowering beast. Mr Wolf didn't appear to share the wild happiness that was surging through Stiles with more than a thread of hysteria. Instead the wolf offered a sad whine sniffing at Stiles and licking his face, a single rough swipe of tongue. It pawed at him briefly, but Stiles' hadn't the energy to move. It hurt so.

When his wolf lay back down it managed to get even closer, it's head resting on Stiles' chest monitoring his heart beat from close, eyes unflinching on Stiles' face.

'Dr Wolfy' Stiles cooed, charmed. 

He heard his own voice, a guttural crack of nonsense. His dad always told him he talked more nonsense than sense. Must be true. Oh well, later perhaps. Sleep first. Him and his doggy. Wolf. Him and his Wolfy. Sleep.

The glow of red eyes followed him into darkness.


	3. The third time..

The third time Stiles woke it was to complain. He was being moved, something to which he most strongly objected to. Someone was carrying him and he didn't like it. Where was his wolf? His wolf would protect him. Bite them Wolfie, bite!

Too much effort went into opening his eyes, it was dark anyway so nothing to be gained but motion sickness. Voices were babbling around him all concerned and annoying, too loud and forcing him awake. _Shut-up, shut-up, shut-up_. Leave him be. Leave him sleep, him and his wolf in the woods.

'Stiles?' someone shouted, nearer but still too loud. Too awake.

'Stiles? Stiles?'

Oh wait, that's me he realised. I'm Stiles. But why was the person shouting at him? He hurt, pain lightning strikes through his body with every step on uneven ground. He turned his head into the shoulder that carried him and thought Wolf.

Floating, sailing through the night, smelling earth and leather and ..darkness.


	4. The fourth time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oops life gets in the way, even of Sterek!  
>  _stuff_ , unreliable laptop, a cold :( and nerves ;)  
> fic will get typed up promise.
> 
> Oh and it's 6chapters now, 5x _And_ last chapter is longer.

The fourth time was brief. Crowded. Voices, people, quiet, warmth. Heat creeping through him syrup slow, his body still sore but healing. The bed beneath him was soft, his head rested on a pillow and blankets coddled him.

Stiles reached for his Wolf and arms welcomed him. A firm chest to snuggle into; fingers brushing through his hair, massaging his scalp to draw out moans; hands stroking down the length of his spine. A clean soapy smell complemented by natural musk.

Safe. Cosy.

Stiles never wanted to leave this new haven.


	5. The fifth time..

The fifth time Stiles woke up it was sudden. Eyes open, body alert, brain working overtime.

He remembered witches and woods; flame and fires; raised voices, flailing and harsh impact then bitter, bitter cold. He'd been knocked out - not for the first time, and Derek..

Derek Hale. Alpha Werewolf Derek. Derek of the frowning eyebrows, chiselled jaw and.. Derek whose bed Stiles was in, who was holding Stiles close and watching him. His usual glower tempered into a sleepy watchfulness, more relaxed than Stiles had ever seen.

So warm and snug.

Oh God! Derek would likely kill him later! It might be worth it though. Stiles snuggled closer to the snuggly warmth that was Derek Hale, who knew? He gave a low whine as his ribs protested the move and was rewarded with a non-verbal grumble, Derek adjusting to better bracket him and his hands soothing as they checked his injuries. It was all the invitation Stiles needed to squiggle closer still.

Another voice voice interrupted the lull, Scott, best buddy Scott, checking in on him:  
'Stiles? You awake bud?'

Scott sounded worried, but Stiles was drugged by the warmth surrounding him and was getting dragged back down into healing sleep. The voice, Scott's voice, came again, sharp enough to penetrate the returning fog.

'Oh. My. God. Stiles are you humping Derek's leg?!'


End file.
